


A Lamb To Slaughter

by GasolineGhuleh



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Cigarettes, Desk fucking, F/M, Heat Sex, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Pain, Rough Sex, Smoking, cigarette extinguishing in interesting ways, light chasing, open for a sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:42:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27502504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GasolineGhuleh/pseuds/GasolineGhuleh
Summary: Papa iii catches you on your way home through the papal orchards, right at the beginning of his heat week. He has a penchant for secret kicks of nicotine, as well as some thoroughly rough sex with Sisters.
Relationships: Papa Emeritus III/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 53





	A Lamb To Slaughter

**Author's Note:**

> Happiest of birthdays to my wonderful friend @kissthegoghuleh on tumblr. 
> 
> Please note that this fic contains Papa putting out a cigarette on your tongue. It's a small paragraph, and is skippable if it squicks you out.

It’s a peaceful night and you take the opportunity for a small detour on your way back to the Abbey proper, crossing through the orchards behind the Papal corridors. It’s only when you’re half way through the orchard do you remember the warning from the Ghouls that it’s getting close Heat Week. You shake your head to dispel the thoughts, but the skin on the back of your neck prickles and stands on end nevertheless. The full moon shines down brightly, illuminating Primo’s fruit orchard well enough that you don’t feel the need to use the flashlight that you had packed with you… that is, before a cloud rolls across it and plunges the area into milky darkness. 

You groan to yourself and dig in your bag, pulling out the small handheld flashlight and flicking it on. The beam isn’t too powerful, but it’s good enough to light the trail in front of you as you start walking again. A noise from the left makes you jump, whirling your flashlight in that direction and attempting to find the source.

Nothing there. 

As you start moving again, another sound comes from your right; crackling leaves and a snapping twig snatch your attention once more and you shine the light to follow the sound. A ghostly figure stands against a tree, illuminated well enough by your flashlight. In the shadowy darkness, the stark contrast of the papal paint is well defined and strikes a terrifying visage. 

“Sorella… Out for a stroll?” His lilting Italian accent reaches your ears easily through the grim stillness of the evening and you chuckle nervously, shrugging and giving him a half hearted smile. With a /shhhk/ and a click, his lighter flicks on and off, the metal of his Zippo making a simultaneously intimidating and calming sound. 

“Yes, Papa. I thought I would walk home the long way after my studies. Tending the uh… tending the garden for your brother tonight. Since you’re all… erm… indisposed.” You stutter your way through the statement awkwardly, cursing yourself inwardly for how embarrassed you feel. 

“Si, si… A nice night.” His eyes squint as he looks you up and down. “It could be nicer. It could be spent with a beautiful Sister under me, hm?” You swallow hard past the lump in your throat, your eyes flickering towards where you know his cock rests in his pants; you can’t make it out in the darkness, but you know he’s more than likely hard. 

“I suppose it could be, Papa. Don’t you have Siblings on retainer for this kind of thing? I’m sure that one of them would be more than willing--”

“I don’t want one of them,” he interjects before you can finish your sentence, his tone sharpened-- whether by his heat or by annoyance, you can’t be sure. His upper lip curls as he speaks, disdain evident in his voice. “None of them give the thrill that I need. The chase… the blood pounding… the excitement.” Throughout the conversation, his Zippo flicks open and closed… open and closed…

“The um… the chase?” you question, voice pitching upwards slightly. His tongue sweeps across his upper lip as he watches you, flicking his Zippo shut a final time and shoving it in his pocket. “What chase, Papa?” 

“Yours, tesoro.”

Without a second’s hesitation to seal your fate you drop everything in your arms and take off sprinting for the Abbey, heart already pounding in your ears as you run. All you can hear is the pounding of your heart in your ears and the slap of your shoes on the cobbled pathway. Just within sight are the stained glass walls of the Papal corridor in the Abbey; if you can reach it you would be safe, theoretically. You’ve played with Papa before, but it’s been months since then.

Just as you reach the door to the Papal corridor, your hand closing around the cold iron of the door handle, something grabs you by the neck of your habit and drags you backwards from it. You yelp in surprise and then in pain as your knees hit the ground, scuffing the delicate skin there on the rocks and cobbles. Papa crouches down in front of you and tilts your head up, gripping your cheeks between forefinger and thumb tightly, pursing your lips.

“Not much of a chase, sorella… But it will have to do. You come, si?” He tilts his head to the side just slightly, evaluating your reaction and possible response to the situation. His intent is clear: you can be escorted back to his rooms for sex, or you can leave unscathed, save for the small scratches on your knees from the cobbles. You surprise both him and yourself when you nod in agreement. “You know this will be eh… rough, si?”

“I know, Papa. Take what you need from me.” Your words are pinched and mumbled through the grip he has on your cheeks, but the intent seems to be received well enough. He grins brightly and you think ‘perhaps this won’t be so rough after all’, before his hand grabs your ponytail and hauls you upward into a half-standing position. You yelp once more as he drags you down the corridor towards his own rooms, hardly noticing or caring that you’re half-stepping, half-scrambling to match his pace.

“Take what I want, hm? What I want, so few Sisters can handle.” He continues talking as he reaches his door and practically tosses you through it, kicking it shut with a bang behind him as he continues to stalk towards you. “What I want from you is obedience, sorella… Mind, and body.” He digs in his pocket for a gilded cigarette tin and pops one open, lighting it swiftly with the Zippo he’d been using. 

Papa moves to his office chair and sits down heavily in it, his legs open and inviting as he watches you. When you make no motion to move towards him, his eyes narrow. He snaps his fingers twice demeaningly, pointing to a spot directly at his feet. You crawl forward, remembering from your past tristes with Papa how much he loves a supplicant. Papa moves slightly, pressing a foot to your upper thigh as you kneel in front of him, watching you through hooded eyes. He raises the cigarette to his lips and takes a long draw, exhaling it in a swirling cloud towards you.

“Secondo never lets me have these during a heat cycle… He says it makes me eh… come se dice… ferino.” He takes another drag, moving his foot towards you and motioning for you to take his shoes off. You do so, hoping that engaging in seemingly simple conversation will keep his lust abated for the moment. 

“Feral, Papa?” you supply. You untie the laces on his dress shoes and remove them easily, setting them beside his desk and looking up at him, awaiting instruction. When his tongue caresses his lower lip, you can’t help but feel a pang of lust deep in your gut. It feels like ages since he was last inside of you, but you remember it well-- flashes of purple and gold, and an orgasm that arched your back as though something was being drawn out of you against your will. 

“Si, feral. The nicotine, you see. It only makes me want more.” Papa moves his foot onto your thigh once more, inching your habit up with his toes as he watches your face. You feel yourself growing hotter, and know that a deepening blush is giving you away. “Do you want more, Sister?” he asks, finally pressing his foot against the apex of your thighs. Your eyes drift shut as you moan softly, moving your hips against him. 

“Yes, Papa, I want more...” He drops his foot away from you as he leans back in his chair, bringing the cigarette to rest between his lips as his hands stray to his cock. He unbuttons and unzips his pants quickly, the jingling of his belt igniting a fire inside of you that has you drooling. Papa pulls off his gloves and throws them onto his desk, groaning as he takes his cock into his hand and strokes twice. 

“You want more… Then take it.” Papa shakes his cock towards you and you crawl forward quickly, keeping your hands on the floor as you lick along the base of his shaft, daring to dip lower and suck one of his balls into your mouth. He groans and drops his head back on his chair, his eyes falling shut as he takes another deep draw from the cigarette. The smoke billows out of his nostrils as he shifts his hips farther down the seat, encouraging you silently to work him. You take his cue, bringing a hand off of the floor to wrap around his thick shaft, stroking him from base to tip as you swirl your tongue around his balls. 

His free hand comes to the back of your head, unceremoniously removing the hair tie that keeps your ponytail up. Your hair falls forward around your shoulders and he gathers it quickly into a messy grip, squeezing and pulling your head to the tip of his cock. You lathe your tongue out and lick across the head of his cock, the pre-cum alighting on your tongue with the taste of salt. 

“What a good Sister… so obedient for her Papa, si?” You hum a yes as you take him into your mouth, bobbing just slightly and keeping your lips wrapped firmly around his head. He groans again and drags you down his cock until your nose is nestled in the thicket of neatly trimmed pubic hair. You gag just slightly, eyes already watering at the intrusion before he lets you back up. “Stick out your tongue, sorella,” he commands. 

With your eyes firmly trained on his face, you stick your tongue out of your mouth, one hand dropping between your own legs to press and tease at your clit. Papa takes a long drag off of the cigarette and pulls it away, holding it between thumb and forefinger in front of your face. Your breathing speeds as you watch him turn the cigarette ember-side down and extinguish it on your tongue. There’s only the brief hint of pain before it’s gone, leaving only the taste of pre-cum and ash. 

“Such a good fucking toy, si?” Papa tosses the unlit cigarette to the side before cupping your face gently. “A good fucking toy for her Papa to use.” He slaps your face twice, quickly, but without much force behind it. You gasp, your mouth falling open farther, and he uses the moment to shove your head back down onto his cock, burying himself in you to the hilt. “So-- fucking-- good-- for-- me!” he says, punctuating each word with a thrust into you. 

When he lets you back up again, your eyes and nose are watering and thick strands of spit connect your swollen lips to the head of his cock. Your breaths are coming quickly, slightly winded as you are from the sudden assault on your throat. He grabs your hair again and presses your mouth to his balls, instructing you to clean him up as he does so. You obey eagerly, lapping and licking at him until the droplets of your spit and his pre-cum are cleaned from him. 

“Come here,” he growls, pulling you roughly to your feet as he stands himself. He kicks his chair away from him and practically throws you onto his desk, his hands searching for your panties under your habit. He finds them easily and pulls them down brutally, tossing them behind him as he steps forward between your legs. “Open wide for Papa, si?” 

“Fuck,” you whine, shifting your hips on the hard plane of his desk as you fall back onto your elbows. Papa pulls your legs further apart, wrapping them around his waist as he grips his cock with one hand. He taps the head of his cock against your clit as you pant, sprawled out on his desk and wanting. Watching you through hooded eyes, he slides his cock between your lips, spreading your slickness and prodding torturously at your entrance. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you to come back to me, Sister… This sweet cunt…” He pushes himself inside of you slowly, groaning as his other hand grips the desk in a white-knuckled grip. As soon as he seats himself fully inside of you, he pulls out just as slowly before ramming into you with a brutal thrust. You fall back onto the desk with a grunt, your back arching into him as he leans over you, planting both hands by the sides of your face. He starts fucking you in earnest, the jingle of his belt buckle loud in contrast to the low, hot breathes exchanged by the two of you. When your eyes drift shut he groans again, thrusting faster and leaning further to bite and suckle at the soft skin of your neck. 

Papa is speaking in rapid Italian as he continues to use you, his cock reaching places that you almost forget existed in your time without him. One of his hands worms between you to press and rub at your clit and you gasp, your own hands flying upward to grip at the edge of the desk above your head as your feet bounce behind his back in rhythm with his thrusts. It isn’t long before you’re cumming, your pussy gripping his cock tightly as your hips grind upwards into him. 

“So fucking good… Don’t know why we stopped--” you manage to get out before a long and drawn out moan escapes you. Papa kisses you hard, swallowing the noise as his tongue sweeps against yours. His fingers continue to toy with the delicate bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs and you feel your muscles tighten as you approach another climax, whining high and needy sounds against his lips. He breaks the kiss with a nip to your lower lip, moving his hips upward and grinding his cock against you. 

“One more time, Sister, cum on my cock. It is the only time I will let you tonight, si? Make this one count… One more time for Papa.” He urges and coaxes you through one last orgasm as your legs tighten around his waist. Papa groans, the sound quickly turning into a growl from his chest as he buries himself in you fully and cums, his cock pulsing and twitching inside of you. 

He stays like that for a moment, planting both hands firmly beside you as his head hangs low over you. His hair has fallen free of its usual immaculate swept back style and is hanging over his eyes in thick raven tendrils. You bring a hand up to move it back and he catches your wrist quickly in one hand, faster than you thought possible. When he looks up at you, his one eye seems to be glowing brighter than normal. 

“Touch me again, sorella, and you are in for more than one round tonight.” You hesitate for a moment before moving again, sweeping his hair back from his face with a sure motion. Papa takes your hand in his and presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist, his tongue flicking out quickly to lathe across the delicate skin. “You know it is my heat cycle, si? I will not let you go… Not for a long time.” 

“I know, Papa.” You nod and struggle to sit up on the desk, a soft sound escaping you when the motion makes Papa’s cock fall out of you. “The cigarette--” you start before Papa interjects.

“A moment of passion, Sister. Apologies, si?” He seems almost ruffled at the thought, swiping a hand through his hair as he looks down. 

“I loved it.” His eyes snap back to yours, suddenly intense in their lust. His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip as he watches you. “If I spend your heat week with you… could we do more things like that? From now on, I mean? If you’ll have me?” You wish you could hide the deepening blush that’s certainly overtaken your features. Papa’s hand comes to your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your bone and then sliding back to grip your hair. It starts as a soft carding of his fingers through it before turning into a tight grasp as he drags you off of the desk and towards his bedroom. 

“You like a rough Papa, si? Let us see what you can handle… The moon is full, sorella.”


End file.
